Everything is Rent
by oOoXTheLikelySuspectXoOo
Summary: A crossover between Rent and Pretty Little Liars. A Little Liars Cast with a Rent Background. Bad summery, please read first chapter before NAY-ing it. Love you guys :
1. We're Not Gonna Pay!

**Okay, so some people may think this is corny but whatever. I love RENT and Pretty Little Liars and just recently I saw Rent off-Broadway in New York. And funny enough afterwards I saw a poster in Times Square for Pretty Little Liars. Suddenly, it came to me. What if the stories were combined. This is what that idea has and will become.**

**P.S. it isn't exactly the same as the play or movie, but it's pretty close. Luv ya!**

**OOH! Caleb is in this but he is gay, sorry! Please don't laugh!**

Welcome to New York City, early 1990's. Christmas eve to be exact.

Just beside Avenue A, a tent city has sprung up and residents are trying to simply stay alive. But how can you stay alive in a time where Strangers, Landlords, Lovers, your own blood cells betray?

"Shit!" Hardy spat, tearing into the fifth story Avenue B apartment. His super 8 camera connected to a leather strap over his shoulder, the aspiring director grimaced at his best friend.

"What?" Ezra asked in an uninterested monotone, tuning his electric guitar. He hadn't been the same since his girlfriend, and the unofficial love of his life, Jackie, had committed suicide by slitting her wrists in their bathroom leaving only a slantilly scribbled note that read,

"_I got the test results back, we have Aids."_

He barely looked up, the cold metal table he sat on was freezing and the only heat that was being supplied was the heart burn he got from dry swallowing his AZT pill. Yet he didn't look bad for someone coming off a half year of heroin withdrawal.

Hardy slammed a red piece of paper down in front of Ezra. In big, tapered black print it boldly stated, "EVICTION NOTICE."

Ezra placed the guitar next to himself, running his fingers through his shaggy blue\black hair. "Dammit Jason . . ."

Jason, Ezra and Hardy's roommate and friends from way back when, had last year bought the building with his new father in law Mr. Grey in hopes of starting a cyber studio. Only last year he had proclaimed Ezra and Hardy were golden.

"You know what this is?" Ezra hopped off the table, only to be interrupted by the telephone, which the two of them always screened.

"Well, that was a loud beep! Hi, Hardy! It's mom! How are you and Ezra doing in New York? It must be getting chilly? Speaking of which did you get the hotplate? Don't leave it on when you leave the house! Oh, and we're sorry to hear about Hanna. I say C'est La Vie! There are tons of other fishies in the sea!"

Hardy momentarily forgot the EVICTION NOTICE under his middle and ring finger, pressing his right index finger to his temple. He smiled absentmindedly. "There are times when we're dirt poor and freezing and I wonder 'What the hell am I still doing here?'. And then they call . . ."

Ezra grabbed the paper, "Yeah, well we may have to rely on them soon! I mean it is because of your ex that this is happening. Jason is pissed about Hanna's show and . . ."

The phone rang again and loudly the answering machine delivered a current message.

"Merry Christmas, Bitches!" Their friend Wren laughed from the other side of the phone. "I'm back in town, throw down the keys."

Hardy smiled, tossing down the keys then returning in. Ezra cleared his throat again. He looked around the dark apartment. On one wall was his bike, the other filled with concert posters – some of which were for his own moonlight shows – and on another were pictures. Little snap shots of past years. One of Wren, Hardy, and Ezra. He could tell by the look in Wren's eyes it had been taken after he 'came out'. It looked so free.

He looked down to Hardy's camera, "How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day?"

Hardy laughed lightly, "How do you write a song when the chords sound wrong? And when notes are sour where is the power we once had to ignite the air?"

Ezra scratched the back of his neck, "Touché." He rubbed his eyes and sighed, "How are we going to pay last years rent! This years rent? NEXT year's rent? This is such hoarse-"

There was some ruckus coming from the streets but it ended in seconds. "Where's Wren?"The door was prodded and Hardy strode towards it, "Here, I guess.". Of course he was only faced with Jason. He walked in, an almost sympathetic grimace on his face. "The rent?"

"What the hell man? We're broke." Ezra fumed.

"And you broke your word . . . this is absurd." Hardy sighed.

Jason rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry it had to come to this boys."

Hardy shook his head, "Bull shit. You have a problem with Hanna and her protest against losing her performance space. Why not call the cops or get an injunction."

"My investors-"

"You're father in law." Ezra interrupted.

"-would rather I handle this quietly. Plus he owns the lot and has the right to do with it as he pleases. And he pleases to have rent!"

Ezra breathed in deeply, "Happy birthday, Jesus."

Jason ignored him and looked to Hardy. "And you and Hanna are close. I thought you could reign her in."

Hardy looked down. "We aren't together anymore."

Jason smirked, remembering the fiery female from their college days, "She got a new man?"

"No." Hardy sighed.

"What's his name?" Jason prodded.

Hardy and Ezra both mumbled at the same time, "Emily."

It took a second, but when it clicked Jason threw himself onto a fit of laughter.

"Yeah it's real funny." Hardy growled.

Jason let out a sigh, "Listen, all jokes to one side, there is one way you won't have to pay. On paper guarantee, you can stay here for the rest of the time you want – for free – if you do me one small favor."

Ezra scoffed, "That being?"

"Convince Hanna to cancel her protest."

Hardy shook his head, "I knew it."

Jason tilted his head to the side, "You want to produce films and write songs? You need somewhere to do it! It's what we used to dream about, guys! And the block is being rezoned. It can be a reality. Stop the protest and you'll have it made. You'll see." Jason walked forward to the door then turned slightly before shutting it, "Or you'll pack."

_**Somewhere on the streets**_

Wren was doubled over, coughing up ounces of blood. A rapid drumming sound slowed and a soft voice called, "You okay honey?" Wren looked up slightly to see a small figure coming towards him. It looked to be a man of 19-21 with an innocent face and sweet voice coming towards him, and the man was carrying a pickle tub.

Wren nodded, coughing some more. He'd just been mugged outside his friend's apartment and had crawled to an Alley. The man touched Wren's shoulder, "Did they get anything." Wren shrugged.

"I didn't have any money . . . but they took my coat." He still felt the keys in his pocket. There were several gashes on his face. "I'm Wren."

The man smiled, "I'm Caleb. But people call me Angel." Wren smiled back and Caleb helped him up. "I'll take you to the hospital, but I have a life support meeting."

Wren walked slowly next to Caleb, "Life Support."

Caleb nodded, shifting the pickle tub and drum sticks, "For people with aids. Like me."

Wren walked slightly closer to him, "Yeah . . . like me, too."

The two smiled at each other as they kept walking in the opposite direction of the hospital.

**Tell me what you thought! As always, the next chapter will be far better but every story needs an intro! Love yah! **


	2. Won't You Light The Candle?

**Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews! Please though, more! I KNOW there are a lot of you reading who aren't reviewing but u have to understand that is my motivation! Anyway, love you all and here's your update.**

Ezra plucked at the unplugged guitar. Coming short of nothing more than a resemblance to Musetta's Waltz, he put the guitar next to him. "One song . . . glory . . . one song before I go. One song glory, to redeem this . . . empty life."

Hardy came from his room and knotted his scarf, "I have to go help Hanna with her soundcheck."

Ezra smirked, "Why can't Emily do it?"

"Hanna says she doesn't know what the hell she's doing, so . . ." he noticed Ezra in his slump and sighed, "Hey . . . don't spend the rest of the night indoors okay? It's Christmas. Maybe when I'm done we go out with them for dinner?"

Ezra pointed to Hardy's camera, "Zone in on my empty wallet?"

Hardy smiled and said, "Remember your AZT."

As soon as the door shut behind him, the answering machine beeped. "Hey guys, it's Jason. My offer still stands. Find a way to stop Hanna's protest. My offer expires after dark."

The machine beeped again, announcing the recording was done. Ezra scoffed as a knock boomed at the door. "What'd you forget?" he said automatically not expecting what he saw.

A small girl stood there with an unlit candle. She had messy, curly hair with pink striped strung through it. All she wore were thick tights, a large slightly torn sweater dress, and a pair of fake Uggs. She smiled slyly, "Got a light?"

He let her in, "I know you . . . you're . . . you're shivering."

She smiled, "It's nothing, they turned off my heat . . . What?" she asked as he lit the candle with a matchbox.

Ezra chuckled nervously, "Nothing! You're smile reminds me of-"

"I always remind people of '. . .', who is she?"

Ezra looked down, "She died . . . her name was Jackie."

The candle went out, purposefully, and the girl turned to him, "It's out, again. Sorry about your friend, could you light the candle?"

Ezra raised his eyebrow and lit it, several drops of hot wax dribbled onto his hand "Oh the wax . . . it's"

"Dripping." She smiled, cutting him off, "I like it between my . . ." she inched closer to Ezra, suggestively.

"Fingers!" Ezra suggested shakily, "I figured(awkward laugh) oh, well . . . goodnight." She shut the door behind her, only to quickly turn around an knock again.

"It blew out again?" he smiled, knowingly.

She pushed past him, "No! I think that I dropped my stash!" she ducked around the shabby furniture.

Ezra walked forward, "I _know _I've seen you before. You're candle's out again."

She sighed, shaking off his remark and kept looking, "Do think it's on the floor?"

"The Floor?" Ezra asked confused, turning only to see the girl's bum high in the air as she looked under a table.

She laughed, "They say that I have the best ass below 14th street . . . is it true?" she wiggled.

"What?" Ezra smiled.

"You're staring again!" she teased.  
>Ezra stuttered, "oh, no . . . I mean you do . . . you have a nice . . . I mean . . . uh, you look familiar."<p>

"Like your dead girlfriend." She suggested, a little pissed.

"No, only when you smile. I've seen you somewhere else." Ezra helped her up.

"Do you go to the Cat Scratch club? That's where I work as a dancer."

"Yes!" he smiled, beginning to help her look. "I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs."

She smacked his shoulder lightly, "It's a living." she started looking in another direction when a small packet of whitish crystals caught Ezra's eyes. He snatched it before she could see it. "What's that?" she asked.

"Candy bar wrapper. why don't you forget those drugs. You look like you're sixteen."

"I'm nineteen!" she retorted and kept looking, "But I'm old for my age, I'm just born to be bad."

"I once was born to be bad . . . I used to shiver like you . . ."

"My heat got cut!" she reminded him.

"I used to sweat!"

" . . . I gotta cold . . ."

"Uh-huh, I used to be a junkie." Ezra pushed, leaning against his table.

She just shook her head and passed him the candle. The match wouldn't catch and Ezra tossed the box out the window, "That was my last match."

She smiled, "Our eyes will adjust . . . there's a full moon tonight." They moved to the shaggy couch.

"Maybe it's not the moon at all . . . I hear Spike Lee's shooting down the street." He pointed out the sway glassed windows

She smirked, "Bah-humbug." She took Ezra's hand.

"Cold hands . . ." he smiled slightly.

"Yours, too. Big. Like my father's. You wanna dance?" she smiled.

"With you?" Ezra leaned forward.

The girl laughed, "No! With my father . . ."

Ezra laughed, and for the first time in a long time it was real. "I'm Ezra." They were really close now.

"I'm Aria . . ." she slipped her hand into Ezra's back pocket, "And that's my stash." She giggled and swayed out of the apartment with the baggie. And part of Ezra's heart.

**Several City Blocks Away**

Hardy walked into the large abandoned stadium. Several homeless citizens gathered around trash bin fires. A feminine voice mumbled angrily to herself. "I can't beloieve I went to Harvard for thi-"

"Emily?" Hardy asked. The girl turned quickly. She had thick black hair and soft olive oil skin. It was the awkward stare-down between the old and the new . . . the ex and the current . . . the old dude and the new chick.

"You're Hardy?" He nodded and Emily sighed. "I told her not to call you."

"Can I help now I'm here?"

Emily rolled her eyes, "I've hired an engineer."

Hardy nodded, "Well it was nice to have met you."

Emily scratched her neck, "Wait! He's . . . three hours late." She offered.

Hardy nodded and jogged up the stairs to the make-shift stage. He was deeply questioning whether he would make it out of this alive.

**Thanks fore reading! Please review! OH, and I forgot, PLL belongs to Sara Shepard and Rent belongs to the late Jonathan Larson. Thanks!**


	3. The Tango Marin

**Hey Guys! I know some of you are a little pissed because I've been bouncing around the lyrics but it's only because I want to make it seem more like conversation for people who haven't seen the FABULOUS musical. I'm going to write this chapter with exact lyrics and see how it turns out, then ill decide how I want to continue it.**

**By the way, the only way this scene could work for me was to act like Hanna's middle name was Maureen and that's what Emily and Hardy called her all the time.**

"Can't believe I went to Harvard for this." Emily huffed, toying with the plugs. "I love Maureen but I mean c'mon."

"You call her by her middle name, too?" Hardy said. He called Hanna by Maureen from time to time, only because he thought it suited her better than Hanna.

Emily nodded, still prodding with the wires, " . . . the samples won't delay but the cable . . .?"

"There's another way. Say something, anything."Hardy held down the patch, awaiting Emily's voice.

She smiled like a news reporter who'd been told it was her last broadcast, "Test one, two, three . . ."

Hardy chuckled, "Anything but that!" There was a long silence before Emily cleared her throat and sighed. "This is weird."

"It's weird . . ." Hardy agreed.

"Very weird?"

Hardy smiled slightly "Fuckin' weird . . ."

Emily dropped the mike, "I'm so mad that I don't know what to do! Fighting with microphones, freezing down to my bones and to top it all off I'm with you!"

Hardy furrowed his eyebrows at her then stood up, "Feel like going insane? Got a fire in your brane? And you're thinking of drinking gasoline!"

Emily's heart dropped, "As a matter of fact . . ."

"Honey I know this act", Hardy stopped her, "It's called the tango Maureen. The tango Maureen!" Hardy sand out, twirling like a tango dancer, making Emily jump back, frightened momentarily. "It's a dark dizzy merry go round! As she keeps you tangling . . ."

"You're wrong." Emily sighed, in denial.

"Your heart she is mangling!" Hardy pushed.

Emily shrugged, "It's different with . . . me."

"See, you toss and you turn, cause her cold eyes can burn! Yet you yearn and churn and rebound . . .?"

Emily sat on the large amp, "I think I know what you mean . . ." Hardy walked over to help her up and they nodded to each other, understanding, "The tango . . . Maureen . . ."

"Has she ever pouted her lips and called you 'Pookie'?" Hardy puckered his lips at the word.

Emily scoffed, "Never!

Hardy shrugged, "Have you ever doubted a kiss . . . or two?" he asked, seeing her face change.

She turned and breathed in shakily, "This is spooky. Did you swoon when she walked through the door?"

Hardy laughed, "Every time so be cautious."

Emily turned bright red, "Did she moon over other boys?

More than moon", Hardy shook his head.

Emily rested her hand on his shoulder, stopping him, "I'm getting . . . nauseous." She looked up at him and rose her eyebrow. He squinted down at her and they both knew what the other was thinking.

"Where'd you learn to tango?" Hardy smirked as Emily lead with precision.

"With the French ambassadors daughter in her dorm room at Mrs. Porters." She stuck her leg swiftly between his legs, "And you?"

He coughed, her leg pushing slightly harder that a happy person would, "With Nannette Himmelfarb, the Rabbi's daughter at the Scarsdale Jewish community center."

"Hm." Emily quipped, pushed him backwards, forcing him into an intense tango.

"Its hard to do this backwards . . ." Hardy smiled.

Emily nodded, "Yeah? You should try it in heels." She nudged with anger, tearing out of the tango. Hardy rubbed his eyes slightly before Emily turned around and sighed, watery eyes. "She cheated!"

Hardy nodded. "She cheated."

Emily groaned, "Maureen cheated."

Hardy ran his fingers through his hair, "Fuckin' cheated."

"I'm defeated, I should give up right now!" Emily moaned, beginning to pick up her equipment.

Hardy shook his head, "Got to look on your bright side with all of your might!"  
>"I'd fall for her still anyhow! When you're dancing her dance you don't stand a chance. Her grip of romance makes you fold. . ." Emily huffed.<p>

"SO you think 'might as well' . . .?"

"Dance the tango to hell!" Emily yelled, noticing Hardy near the electronics again.

They both look at each other and sighed, "At least I'll have tangoed at all . . . The tango Maureen. Gotta dance till your diva is through. You pretend to believe her? Cause in the end you can't leave her! But the end it will come so you have to play dumb! Till you're glum and you bum and turn blue!"

"Why do we love when she's mean?" Hardy rolled his eyes.

"And she can be so obscene." Emily mused in disgust.

"Try the mike." Hardy croaked in a dry voice.

Emily frowned, letting her eyes flutter down, "My Maureen." It ebbed out long and proud. They looked at each other with melancholy in their eyes, "The tango Maureen."

"And we're patched." Hardy sighed.

"Thanks . . ." Emily said, the phone ringing. "Hanna? He baby – Pookie? But you never call me . . . never mind. We're patched." She hung up and turned to Hardy who smirked and quipped, "Pookie."

Emily narrowed her eyes, "Shut up."

**Hope you liked it! I know it was weird but 'The Tango Hanna' wouldn't have worked. And believe me I even tried, 'The Tango Marin' but . . . yeah, no. So please review! Love you all. **


	4. Today 4 U

**SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! I lack my convictions in limiting an amount of stories at a time so I now have 20 ongoing stories. Please don't give up on this, it is my baby! Because this was such a long update wait it will be a long chapter! I love you guys you're my inspiration guys! Love you all.**

Ezra breathed in, waking up and looking around to see Hardy just stepping in. He opened his mouth to say something then shut it, squinting at a finger scribbled not on one of the window panels. Ezra followed Hardy's gaze.

'_X-Mas Breakfast? Just you and me? My place – Aria"_

"Aria from the Cat Scratch club?" Hardy asked, remembering the short but lean stripper with the voice of silk.

"I guess . . ." Ezra scratched the back of his neck and stood up.

"Well are you going?" Hardy pushed, smiling broadly. Before Ezra could respond the door opened, and Wren came through, large bucket in his arms and keys in his teeth. "Wren?" Hardy came up to greet his friend. "What happened to you?"

Wren took the keys out of his mouth as Hardy rested the Captain Crunch and Stoli Alcohol filled bucket on the counter. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, ten hours late. We were worried!" Hardy stopped to look in the plastic tube. There were Pringles, Hot Pockets, even some Marlboro Cigarettes at the bottom. "This is a Christmas feast! Thank you!" he hugged his friend. Ezra came up, "Hi." He smiled.

"Hi." Wren mocked, "After seven months?" he jokingly pushed Ezra but hugged him as well. "We need to get you out of the house to Hanna's show tonight." Ezra thought about protesting but let it drop. For the moment, anyway.

Hardy was still marveling at the tub. He knew that Wren had been fired from his teaching position at MIT for his radical reviews on Virtual opposed to Actual Reality, so he pondered at how he had scavenged this. "How did you get this?"

Wren smiled, taking of two layers of jackets, "Gentlemen, our benefactor on this Christmas Eve, whose charity is only matched by talent –I believe – A new member of the Alphabet City avant-garde, Caleb "The Angel" Schunard!" A young boy, who looked to be more or less nineteen, stepped inside in a sequined, red drag queen version of Santa Clause, 2 large wads of money in each hand, and drum sticks in his belt.

"Today for you." He smiled, stepping forward to drop money in Ezra and Hardy's hands. "Tomorrow for me!"

"And you should hear her beat . . ." Wren smiled.

"You earned this on the street?" Ezra asked in disbelief.

Turning it into a song, Caleb used his sticks to create a colorful tune on the many different kinds of metal around and beginning to tell his story. "It was my lucky day today on Avenue A, when a lady in a limousine drove my way! She said, "Dahling – be a dear – haven't slept in a year! I need your help to make my neighbors yappy dog disappear!"" Hardy, Wren, and Ezra all started laughing.

"This akita, Evita, just won't shut up! I believe if you play non-stop that pup will breathe it's very last high strung breath! I'm certain that cur will bark itself to death! Today for you – Tomorrow for me, Today for you – Tomorrow for me!" He blasted out a mix of melodies before continuing, "We agreed on a fee, a 1,000 dollar guarantee – tax free – And a bonus, if I trimmed her tree! Now who could foretell that it would go so well. As sure as I am here that dog is now in doggy hell! I mean, after an hour – Evita – in all her glory, on the window ledge of that 23rd story – Like Thelma and Louis did when they got the blues . . . Swan dove into the courtyard of the Gracie Mews. Today for you-Tomorrow for me – unh!"

Ezra and Hardy, smiles huge on their faces, tried to keep the beat with Caleb intensely amazing solo. "How did you and Wren meet?" Hardy asked.

Caleb smirked, "Back on the streets – where I met my sweet – he was moaning and groaning on the cold concrete, The nurse took him home for some *giggle* mercurochrome and I dressed his wounds and got him back on his feet!" Wren laughed, "Sang it!"

"Today for you – Tomorrow For me! Today for you – Tomorrow For me! I said, Today for you – Tomorrow For me! Today for you – Tomorrow-owwwwwwhoahhhhh! For me!" The group applauded and laughed as Wren and Caleb did some form of Secret Handshake and he helped him up.

"You have talent." Ezra smiled.

Wren slapped Ezra's back, "You should know. Angel, he used to be one of the biggest names in New York." Caleb smiled at Ezra, "It's just so nice to meet you guys. But . . . me and Wren kind of need to get going for our Life Support meeting."

Hardy furrowed his eyebrows, "Do you think I could come? Record some stuff for a documentary?"

Caleb smiled, "Of course, it's not just for people with AIDS! You, too, Ezra – you might like it."

Ezra smiled, "No I think I'll just stay here. We'll meet up later." The other three nodded and left for the meeting. They arrived slightly late but shuffled into the circle as people said their names, although Hardy had to set up his Super 8 camera first.

"Steve"

"Gordon"

"Ali"

"Pam"

"Sue"

Wren and Caleb sat in the small circle. Caleb removed the wig and Santa earrings from earlier on. "Hi . . . I'm Caleb, but people call me Angel."

Wren smiled, "Wren. Collins." He didn't know if he should add his last name.

The leader smiled, "I'm Paul, let's begin." Everyone joined hands and began singing the motto.

"_There's only us, there's only this – "_

Everyone looked up to see Hardy bustle in, not so quietly. He caught his Super 8 before it could crumble at the ground. "Sorry!" he looked up like a deer in the head lights.

"And you are?" Paul asked.

"Oh – I'm not – I'm just here to – I don't have – I'm with – um . . ." he looked for reassurance and saw Caleb wave him over. "Hardy. Hardy . . . I'm Hardy. Well", he looked around nervously, "This is quite an operation!"

Paul smiled, "Sit, Hardy, and we'll continue the affirmation."

"_Forget Regret, Or Life Is Yours To Miss –" _

Gordon looked up, "Paul, I'm having trouble with this credo. My T-cells are low – I regret that news, okay?"

Paul paused and everyone looked at Gordon, "Well how do you feel?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do you feel today?"

"Okay . . ."

"Is that all?"

A small smile spread across Gordon's features, "Best I've felt all year."

Paul let a small laugh puff out momentarily. "Then why choose fear?"

Gordon chuckled, "I'm a New Yorker. Fear is my life." The rest of the group giggled as Gordon tried to explain. "Look I find some of what you teach suspect. Because I'm used to relying on intellect. But! I try to open up to what I don't know-"

The door opened again and Hardy grinned from ear to ear when he saw Ezra's mop head coming in. He had heard most of what Gordon said from the outside and finished with him, guessing they shared alone of the same experience. "Because reason says I should have died . . . 3 years ago-o-o-o" Everyone embraced Ezra as he stepped to the circle.

"_There's only us, there's only this_

_Forget regret or life is yours to miss_

_No other rode, no other way_

_No day but today-y-y"_

. . . . . . . . . .

Later that night, three avenues down and two streets over, Aria was finishing her makeup. A little pissed Ezra hadn't met her for breakfast, she spent her last little spending money on another baggy of heroine. She hated her habit, until about twenty seconds after the thick whit chemical she burned was in her veins. She came into work and asked her manager if she could switch her number from tomorrow to tonight, getting Christmas off at the same time.

She got to have musical numbers every other week during her dances. She didn't mind that she had to wear little to nothing – a glittery bra and lacy boy shorts that came halfway up her ass – as long as she got to sing during it. She'd always wanted to be a Broadway singer since she was a small child living in Spanish Harlem, but she'd never been able to keep her habit at bay long enough to hold onto performances for longer that a few months.

"To the stage in fifteen, Mimi." Donnie, the manager, said. He was a nice guy – not skeevy or greasy like any other club manager Aria had met in the past. He had called her Mimi on her first day because she had listed her full name on the resume. Her full name was Arialuca Mimosa Guadalupe Marquez Delavega, not an easy name to maneuver and Mimi was a quick and easy pseudonym. "Thanks." She glanced one last time at herself before getting positioned on stage for her number. No matter what happened in her life it always made her heart skip a beat when that music started. And tonight's performance would be no different.

**I know you guys want, Need, CRAVE more but sadly this will have to be it for now. Chap. 5 is in the works I promise! It will feature Out Tonight, Another Day, Will I, Santa Fe & I'll Cover you for sure! Love you with all of myself!**


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